Part 33 (1/2)

”Why? Le cochon maudit, he started it.”

As Claire turned to face him, Dean bit back an answering insult.

”Well?” she prodded.

”He accused me of picking up his anchors. Of keeping him from walking around the hotel.”

”Were you?”

”No!” When he saw Jacques' mouth open, he s.h.i.+fted his weight forward and said, ”Okay, I picked up that picture there, but I didn't know it was one of his anchors.”

”You accuse me of hiding behind Claire.”

”And look where you are.”

”Fini! Je suis a bout! I have had it up to here!”

”FREEZE!”.

Jacques stopped his forward advance, and Dean rocked back on his heels.

Arms folded, Claire turned slowly to face Dean. ”Did you really say that?”

Dean nodded sheepishly, gaze locked on the carpet.

”Why?”

Ears red, he shrugged without looking up. ”I don't know.”

Since he was telling the truth, Claire ignored the rude noises coming from behind her. ”All right, then, I suggest, no, this needs something stronger than a mere suggestion, I insist that we continue this, whatever this is, downstairs. We're uncomfortably close to her.”

”Her?” Jacques repeated, coming between Claire and the stairs. ”By her, I am wondering, do you mean, her?”

”She's in room six,” Claire told him, pointing with broad emphasis at the splintered door. She opened her mouth to demand he get out of her way when she realized all his attention was on Dean. The air crackled as he moved past her.

”You thought that I, Jacques Labaet, did want to wake her?”

Several hundred childhood stories of vengeful spirits pa.s.sed through Dean's head, but he held his ground, wondering why adults thought it necessary to scare the snot out of kids. ”I only thought it at first.”

”You dare to give me this insult!”

”The picture was right by her door.”

”And so were you!”

”I was vacuuming!”

”The carpet,” Jacques spat, drifting up so they were nose-to-nose, ”is clean! Perhaps you mean to wake her, and I come in time to stop you!”

It was only twenty after eight, but Dean had already had a bad morning. The carpet was not clean, it hadn't been vacuumed in a week and it didn't look as though it was going to get vacuumed any time soon. Sure, he'd discovered a suspicious side of himself he didn't much like, but he didn't think he deserved to be accused of treachery by someone intent on necrophilia. Of a sort. ”You go to h.e.l.l,” he said with feeling.